


another year older

by grepres (nnivanfields)



Category: Great Pretender (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, M/M, Requests, be gentle this is my first grepre fic, birthday fics, birthday smooches, but here i am, i swore i wouldn't write grepre before part 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 04:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26467000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nnivanfields/pseuds/grepres
Summary: Makoto is called out for yet another con, but Team Confidence has something a little different in mind.Request from tumblr, asking for a fic where Makoto gets a surprise birthday party from Laurent and the gang.
Relationships: Edamura Makoto/Laurent Thierry
Comments: 6
Kudos: 330





	another year older

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello, new psued but old af author here!
> 
> i really really love great pretender and this particular ship, so you can expect a lot from me. this one in particular came up because i got all up in my feelings and asked for fic requests, and this lovely person on tumblr decided to send me a request! i hope y'all enjoy~

“You’re being even more cagey than usual today.”

Makoto’s eyes are trained on the back of the man leading him down the hotel hallway. Even when he speaks, Laurent doesn’t look behind him. He just continues walking with his hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive probably-just-because Alexander McQueen dress pants. Seriously, who in the hell buys solid color dress pants with that kind of price tag? Better yet, who in the hell couples it with a short-sleeved button-up that makes them look like a damned tourist?

That’s right…Laurent Thierry does. His style is unlike any style Makoto has ever seen before. The combinations he layers with would look downright goofy on anyone else, but coupled with those stupidly pretty blue eyes and blond hair that sits just on the right side of wild, he actually pulls it off. If not for how annoying the guy is when he’s running his mouth, Makoto might find himself admiring him a little.

“Seriously, though…you haven’t told me anything yet.” Makoto is growing impatient, and Laurent must be able to tell, because he lifts a hand from his pocket and raises it, waving just once to silence him.

“You’ll know soon enough.”

“What kind of answer is that?” Makoto demands, the irritation audible in his voice. He’s really not always this temperamental—Laurent just has the uncanny ability to draw it out of him like he’s siphoning fuel from a gas tank. It’s a special talent that only trash like himself can honestly perfect. Why Makoto still works with him is beyond him.

“It’s the answer someone provides when they’re trying to be cagey, I suppose.” Laurent finally casts a glance over his shoulder at Makoto, and he has the gall to freaking _wink_ as he does so, which only fires Makoto up even more.

“You’re a pain in my ass!” Makoto barks in return, before he jams his hands into his own pockets and begins the Laurent-Thierry-induced task of sulking while he waits for the supposed knowledge he’s supposed to gain ‘soon enough’.

Come to think of it, this whole situation is different from how it normally goes. Ordinarily, Edamura’s trying to go about living his own life when he somehow winds up roped back into one of Team Confidence’s schemes yet again. Sometimes, it’s without him even realizing Laurent has sucked him back in, and other times, he unwittingly throws himself into the mix on his own.

This time around, it’s a bit more personal.

As of today, Makoto is another year older. He’s spent several of his birthdays in prison or alone in whatever apartment he’s rented. There’s no real explanation as to why this particular birthday should appeal to him so powerfully, but for some reason, it does.

Maybe it’s because he’s doing a lot of introspection. The more time he spends with Laurent and Cynthia and Abbie, the more he looks back on his life. He’s spent the past handful of years actively trying to elevate himself as a person, determined not to live by his father’s reputation anymore, but right now, all he can think about his how actively his mother had celebrated each and every one of his birthdays. On his thirteenth, she had pulled out all the stops—decorated, baked a cake, and surprised him at the door when he had come home from school. She had treated every one of his birthdays as a very important one.

He misses his mom, and today, he feels it more powerfully than ever. It hurts him even more that he’s not in his hometown where he can feel that somber feeling at its most basic level, but he’s sufficed it by stopping at a capsule machine and dispensing yet another capsule toy.

He peers down at it now. It’s a little green plastic cat. It’s shaped differently than the one he’d gotten for his mother all those years ago, but it still brings back plenty of memories, and it’s probably also a heavy contributor to the fact that he misses her so much today.

Makoto had tried so hard to live by her expectations. He’d fallen into a pretty shady lifestyle after her death, but even though he’s still involved with Laurent and the others, he likes to think that he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s, at the very least, not swindling solely for the sake of swindling anymore. It’s not just a form of survival. While he definitely doesn’t plan on being a con artist his entire life, he can at least be a little grateful that he’s done some good things in the process.

It’s no way for a guy to live normally, though. Laurent and Cynthia and Abbie are a special breed—like the Robin Hoods of the modern world. Edamura doesn’t want to continue down that road, but he bears some level of respect for all three of them for what they do anyway.

They’re in New York City right now, having fled there from a successful con all the way in Atlanta. Makoto was perfectly content lazing about in his own hotel room, when he’d received the call from Laurent that they happened upon another situation in need of Team Confidence’s help. Just like now, Laurent provided no information and requested that he meet him outside of his hotel room, which has them now walking the halls and stepping into the elevator.

As the door shuts, Makoto glances over at Laurent, who suddenly seems a lot more spacey than usual. He’s got his gaze fixed on the buttons next to the door, but doesn’t seem keen on pushing any one of them.

“Where exactly are we going?” Makoto asks. He’s still irritated, but his impatience dies down a bit once he sees the way Laurent’s demeanor has changed. “…What, are you afraid of elevators or something?”

Laurent doesn’t respond straight away. He simply steps forward and hits a button for the ground floor, before he turns his gaze to Makoto and smiles as if that moment of hesitation never happened. “I’ve never done this before.”

Makoto frowns. “…I find it hard to believe you’ve never been in an elevator before.” He knows that’s not what Laurent’s referring to, but the man also seems pretty dead set on not going into detail, and Makoto almost feels…nervous for him? What kind of assignment is he about to get himself into? Why did he agree to this again?

Once the elevator reaches the selected floor, Laurent steps out, that smile still on his face. He gestures for Makoto to follow him, as they pass down yet another hallway that opens up into the lobby. The clerk at the desk doesn’t so much as look up at them as they keep going, into another corridor. Makoto is starting to see signs for the swimming pool and the laundromat and then finally, a conference room.

He’s not sure what he expected, honestly. Maybe Laurent had rented out the conference room because they’d had to enlist in the help of a lot more people, but if that’s the case, why are they meeting publicly? The walls aren’t thick enough to discuss what they’re going to do to swindle someone out of their money, and Makoto knows for a fact that both Cynthia and Laurent are far more careful than that.

So what the hell is going on?

When Laurent opens the door and finds an entire crowd of people greeting him with a smile around a table stacked high with wrapped gifts, it’s safe to say he’s shocked. They’re all dressed to the nines, sporting drinks in their hands, and behind them and the table stands a hand-painted sign that boasts in all caps, ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EDAMAME!’ with a cute little drawing of the food itself.

Edamura immediately turns his gaze, wide-eyed, at Laurent, who claps a hand on his shoulder and grins placidly down at him.

“Happy birthday,” the Frenchman says simply, looking as relaxed as ever.

The thing is, Makoto hasn’t told anyone about his birthday. He doesn’t doubt for a second that Laurent has already known for quite some time, since he claimed in Los Angeles that he knew everything about him, but if he hasn’t been making a big deal about it, why is Team Confidence doing so?

At the front of the group stands Kudo, who is grinning from ear to ear. He’s sporting one of those goofy headbands Americans wear when they celebrate the new year, but it surprisingly looks fitting on him in this very moment.

“It’s about time we got to give you a big birthday bash!” Kudo exclaims, holding up his drink in excitement. “It either passes by when you’re behind bars or we’re across the world from each other.”

Makoto laughs nervously as Cynthia approaches, feigning the emotional moment of a mother in response to their child. “They really do grow up so fast, don’t they?”

“I’m not a kid,” Makoto retorts, though there’s no real bite to his words. “But seriously, when did you guys start planning all this out?”

Abbie is at Makoto’s side before he realizes it. Her gaze is as even as ever as she gestures with a tilt of her head up toward Laurent. “This jackass sprung it on us at the last minute.”

“It all came together, though,” Laurent replies, shrugging his shoulders. He looks as smug as ever, but there’s something else in his expression that Makoto can’t quite place. “I can’t take all the credit, however. Kudo reached out to me, which is in part why it was so sudden.”

Makoto turns his gaze back toward the rest of the group, where Kudo is facing away now, passing drinks out to others. The ‘group’ includes Shi-Won and many of the ‘FBI agents’ from back in California, among a handful of faces Makoto doesn’t quite remember.

He glances down at the capsule toy in his hand, before he smiles back up at Cynthia and the others. In a quick burst of emotion, he takes in a deep breath, and then exclaims as loudly as he can, “Thank you, everyone!”

Laurent’s hand has yet to leave Makoto’s shoulder, and for once, he doesn’t feel compelled to shove the man away.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” Cynthia breaks his train of thought, extending a drink out to him. “Open your gifts.”

Japanese birthdays are celebrated a lot more differently than they are here in the States. Usually, Makoto would spend his birthday with family or a partner, but this is just as good. He realizes that even though he’s actively trying to turn over a new leaf and get out of the conman lifestyle, these people are probably the closest to family he’s had in a long time.

No, they _are_ family.

The attention is all on him at this point. Cynthia and Abbie guide him to a chair next to the table where the gifts are, and Cynthia snaps a pointed hat onto his head and then shoves a box into his hands.

Not surprisingly, the gifts are extravagant. Clothes, several different boxes of flavored coffees with brand names Makoto has never heard of before, a Keurig specifically for the making of said coffees…but his favorite is the very last one.

Somehow, and Makoto doesn’t even try to question _exactly_ how, they’ve managed to get their hands on a capsule toy dispenser. Abbie announces with the tiniest hint of a smile on her face that it was a group effort.

“You said something about how much you like these things,” she continues, one hand on her hip, “and that it was like fortune-telling or something to you. So, we bought one and we’re gonna make sure it’s a surprise to you every single time you get one.”

Makoto blinks, glancing about the crowd once more. Everyone is smiling. “…Where am I gonna put it, though?”

“In your house, of course,” Laurent responds. His smile seems somehow brighter all of a sudden. “You know, whenever it is you _do_ manage to start living a normal life.”

“ _Which¸_ by the way, you _can_ do without avoiding us for the rest of your life,” Cynthia adds. The seriousness in her voice is perhaps a bit unnerving. But all Makoto can do in response is grin widely.

He glances down at his lap, his hands in fists. “I didn’t expect anything like this.” He then stands upright and offers an appreciative bow. “Thank you all so much.”

What would his mother say to all of this? Sure, the things that Makoto has done since her passing haven’t been what she would have hoped for, but he inherited his facetious and calculative nature from her, so he imagines she’d be proud on some level for what he’s achieved. Everyone here is a con artist, but they have also made it clear that they care about him. Miki Edamura would appreciate that fact, at the very least—that her son has surrounded himself with people who genuinely consider themselves his friends.

The party is a blast. Everyone has drinks, chatters amongst one another, and there is even some dancing. Makoto isn’t a bad dancer—or at the very least, he doesn’t think so—and with a couple of drinks in his system, he doesn’t exactly protest when Kudo and Cynthia drag him out into the middle of the room to show off some moves.

Edamura is having so much fun that the day disappears almost too quickly. Before he knows it, the afternoon has given way to evening and the sun is starting its descent over the horizon. The party has shifted from the conference room to the patio outside. There are two floors to said patio, and the second floor overlooks the first, where guests can see the entire horizon. Makoto finds himself on this patio, leaning over a metal guardrail, the remains of a drink in his hand. He polishes off the last swig and then moves to place it on the table nearby. He’s just about to turn and face the horizon again when he feels the warmth of a body behind him.

Laurent is so much bigger than Makoto, and he realizes this as he feels that body press up against him and completely surround him. Laurent places his hands on either side of the rail, leaning forward to rest his chin on Makoto’s shoulder.

“Are you drunk?” Makoto questions, because while Laurent Thierry has never had any issue getting up close and personal with him, this feels a little more…like something else. Still, he doesn’t push the man away.

“I don’t believe so,” Laurent replies easily enough. Makoto can smell a faint hint of alcohol on his breath, but it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s inebriated. They’ve all been drinking, after all. “I did need a breath of fresh air, however.”

“There’s plenty of patio for the both of us,” Makoto points out. He himself is perhaps a little buzzed, which he’s going to use to explain why he’s not all that opposed to being this close to Laurent right now. He even goes so far as to lean back against him.

“Did you enjoy yourself today?”

Makoto glances down at his hands, before he tips his head up and gazes out over the horizon once more. “Yeah, I did. Did you guys really do all that last-minute?”

A soft chuckle falls from Laurent’s lips, and Makoto becomes more aware of their closeness in the fact that he can feel the man’s breath on his neck. “In less than twelve hours. Impressed?”

“I’m going to stifle your ego by saying ‘no’,” Makoto retorts, huffing like a child, “but even I can’t bring myself to mean it. You guys really went all-out. I had a good time.”

He’s surprised when he feels one of Laurent’s arms move to slide around his waist, but he still doesn’t have it in him to break away from the contact. It’s…its own unique brand of comfort. Laurent is a selfish, arrogant pain in the ass, but…well, Makoto doesn’t know _what_ , but it’s there.

He laughs a little as he places a hand on the forearm wrapped around him. “You were nervous in that elevator, weren’t you?”

There are a solid three seconds to the nose of hesitation before Laurent finally replies. “What ever gave that idea?”

This time, Makoto scoffs. “Please, you were scared as hell. Should have seen your face.”

“I believe you’re confusing anticipation and excitement,” Laurent jabs back playfully, and Makoto swears he feels the other man tip his head closer to his neck. “I was fantasizing about your reaction.”

Makoto knows beyond any shadow of a doubt that what Laurent is saying is complete bullshit, but he surprisingly feels no desire to quash the man’s pride. Instead, he tips his head back, using a glance up toward the evening sky as an excuse to rest his head back against Laurent’s shoulder. “Like you fantasize about other things, you mean?”

Laurent seems to ponder the question for a solid second, before he slides his other arm around Makoto’s waist and noses at his jaw. “I _am_ a bit of a dreamer. Turn around, Edamame.”

Laurent is being incredibly vague, but Makoto knows exactly what’s about to happen. Even though the tops of his ears go a bit red in realization, he still feels no desire to protest. In his mind, he is very fervently reminding himself that he can blame this on the alcohol, as he obeys. Once he’s facing Laurent, he leans back against the rail and frowns up at him. “It’s Edamura.”

“Right, of course,” Laurent responds, before he brings a hand up and runs his thumb along Makoto’s jaw. He leans in just slightly, before his eyes lock with Makoto’s and he pauses. “…May I?”

Makoto blinks, a little bit surprised by the question, before the Laurent-Thierry-reserved scowl returns to his face. “Better hurry up before I change my mind.”

The list of surprises Makoto has been mentally compiling during the entirety of his birthday is apparently still ever-growing. Kissing that French bastard was definitely not something he’d imagined he would be doing, but here he is. Not unlike everything else about Laurent, his lips are soft and sweet, and Makoto can taste hints of the alcohol he’s been drinking on them.

But it’s good. Laurent is unsurprisingly a good kisser, and he takes his time allowing Makoto to respond. It warms him all over, and what starts out as him simply placing a hand on the taller man’s chest turns into both arms curled tightly around his neck. The next thing he knows, he’s got Laurent pulled flush against him.

By the time Laurent breaks off the kiss, Makoto is out of breath. His cheeks are flushed and his mind is somewhat hazy. He braces himself against the rail and gapes up at Laurent as the man steps back.

“I’m glad you enjoyed your special day,” Laurent says, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I couldn’t help but seal it with a kiss.”

“Yeah, because that was totally for my birthday,” Makoto teases, his confidence growing now that there’s some distance between them. He smirks coyly. “You’re so creepy.”

Laurent just smiles, and then turns and heads back off the patio toward the sliding doors leading back into the hotel.

“…Wait a second,” Makoto pushes off the rail, following a yard or so behind Laurent. “You’re just gonna leave it at that? No response?”

Laurent’s only answer to that is a series of soft chuckles, which earns him a frustrated groan from Makoto, who takes chase.

“Get back here and gimme some closure, asshole! I haven’t even gotten to thank you!”

“You thanked me no less than seven times!” Laurent laughs in retort.

“That’s not what I meant!”

There’s no way they’re leaving it at that. Not if Makoto has any say in it.


End file.
